


Life Still Goes On

by ionik



Series: Snowbaz Winter 2019 [12]
Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Boys Kissing, Gender Dysphoria, Love, M/M, Mention of Simon being deadnamed, POV First Person, POV Simon Snow, Post-Watford (Simon Snow), The Mage (mentioned) - Freeform, Trans Character, Trans Male Character, Trans Simon, Transgender Author, Unsafe Binding Practices, Watford (Simon Snow), Watford Seventh Year, binders, by the mage, gender euphoria, trans fic written by trans author, why is gender euphoria not a tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-12
Updated: 2019-12-12
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:20:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21773578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ionik/pseuds/ionik
Summary: In addition to being the Chosen One, Simon has a secret he doesn't want Baz to know.A peek into stealth Simon and then a look into the future when Simon's out and struggles with dysphoria.It's sweet, I promise :)
Relationships: Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Series: Snowbaz Winter 2019 [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1559734
Kudos: 96





	Life Still Goes On

**Author's Note:**

> This is about 1.5 hours late but I edited the release date because I got carried away writing and started way too late. Also trying to experiment with my writing style
> 
> Title from I Want To Break Free by Queen

**Simon**

I come back to Watford in September. I always come back. No matter how much I try not to think about the school, I still convince myself more and more throughout the Summer that I won’t get to go back, that I hallucinated all of it, that the families will take over and throw me out along with Trixie and the Minotaur. But I’m here once again.

I think I could cast the spell to introduce myself to the Anathema, if I tried. If I believed it would accept me. I’m surprised the blood works, still. That the Anathema accepts the Crucible’s decision.  _ The Crucible knows who you are, Simon _ , Penny told me once. She repeats it every time she recognises the look in my eyes, when I’m drifting off and thinking.

The Crucible knowing who I am might be even scarier.

Baz is here already. I frown. He doesn’t usually come back this early. I hunch consciously to hide my chest. I hurry into the bathroom, not even bothering to listen to whatever shitty remark he has prepared against me this year. I throw my bag on the floor and (frantically) look for the first aid kit under the sink. Every Watford bathroom has first aid kits. I grab the bandages out of the box. They’re small, but they will do. I’m not out in the summers, at the homes, so I don’t bring my binder with me, just in case someone at the homes finds it.

It’s in my closet, hidden away beneath a false bottom I put in the drawer. When I can breathe again (ironic, as the bandages are pushing against my ribs and lungs), I reenter the room and throw myself on the bed. I don’t want to risk Baz seeing it. I can hear him start to say something to me, but I turn onto my side away from him and pull my pillow over my exposed ear. Better.

~~

Years later, when we’ve been together for months and friends for a bit longer, I tell Baz. He accepts me, of course he does, and the  _ bastard _ apparently calls Penny to ask for my measurements, because a week later, a box arrives with a selection of binders that fit me like a glove.

He doesn’t judge me when I cry from euphoria. He doesn’t judge me when I cry from dysphoria, either. He never uses my deadname against me. (Penny and Baz keep telling me it’s okay to be mad at the Mage for doing so.) (I’m starting to believe them.)

He’s too good for me, but his unconditional support is such a relief sometimes that I have to let myself relish in it. There are days when I wear two hoodies and slouch and avoid looking in the mirror. Those days are rarer than they used to be, but they progress in the exact same way. I will wake up noticing  _ everything _ about my body. I will get up hoping the feeling will go away. It never does. I will call in sick to work and then sit and stare into thin air for an hour, until Baz calls me. He always calls me if I don’t text before I’m supposed to be at work. He’s too good for me, I always think.

I will accept Baz dressing me in his largest hoodie. It’s smaller than any of mine, so it doesn’t work to hide my body away from the world, but it smells like him, like  _ home _ . And then he will give me one of my larger hoodies to pull over it.

I usually improve throughout the day. Baz will leave to get his coursework sorted so he can sit on the end of the couch and write while I lay down watching GBBO or Doctor Who reruns. Every once in a while, he will squeeze my calf. I don’t mind my calves. Baz knows I don’t mind my calves.

Baz also knows that I’m not mad at him when I snap. He recognises that I’m figuring out how to deal with emotions now that I have a new therapist. I don’t want him to be okay with me snapping at him, but it is what it is. His words, not mine. He went with me to an appointment a few months ago. He’s still adamant about not seeing a professional himself, but he went with me to talk about my issues with communication. I tell my therapist everything that’s on my mind and she had been great at continuing the conversation when it halted or giving me words when they got stuck in my throat.

I will snap at him, and he won’t look at me with a mix of hurt and worry and pity and love in his eyes.  _ I don’t like it wh- you sometimes will- can you- please don’t look at me like that when I’m being shitty _ . He understood me. He still understands me and if he doesn’t, he will make an effort to ask me. The words flow more freely now. He will look at me with some of that fire I recognise from our time at Watford. Sometimes he will scoff, other times roll his eyes and make a witty remark. I prefer it when he ignores me. When he allows me to regret my temper getting the best of me and doesn’t react any different to me when I get back out of my head and apologise.

The days will still end in tears. I think they will end in tears for as long as I have them. Baz will take me in his arms if I want him to; if not, he will turn off the lights and wait until I’m under the blankets to slide in next to me. He lets me decide the pace. He’s almost too passive but I prefer it to panicking over losing control and feeling like he’s pushing me. Baz would never push me. Not since the stairs, anyways.

I’m in our bed now. The room is dark and I’m sweating buckets under the covers. Baz is breathing slowly next to me. I can tell he’s about to fall asleep. I match my inhales and exhales to his and when I feel my eyes finally starting to close, I roll onto my side. I’m facing him. I push my fingers through his hair, combing it out, watching a lazy smile tug at the corner of his mouth. I can’t stop myself from kissing him there. He lets out a contented sigh and his eyes flutter open.

“Sleepy?” I ask him.

“Exhausted,” he replies. He usually suppresses his yawns, but at this moment one takes over his face. I use the mild distraction to shuffle down the bed so I can rest my head on his chest. The tears I haven’t cried all day make themselves present and exit my eyes to follow a trail down my cheek, darkening the fabric where they land on Baz’ pajamas shirt. I’m relaxed for the first time today so my body is releasing all of the tension I’ve built up. I wiggle around until I’m even more comfortable and I feel like I’m sinking into the bed, and I fall asleep to the steady, faint sound of Baz’ heartbeat.

I’m better when I wake up the next day. Any morning when I don’t immediately rush to the bathroom to take care of my chest is a win in my book. So is every morning when the first thing I see is Baz’ face up close. He’s already awake, pupils wide from the lack of light and the remnants of sleep, and his limbs intertwined with mine.

I will have bad days again. But right now, I’m going to have a lazy morning snog with my boyfriend.

**Author's Note:**

> protect trans kids
> 
> thank you so much for reading !!


End file.
